I Am Number Three - Book 2: The Spirit of Resistance
by Discordant Night
Summary: After the Battle Of Paradise High, with newfound allies and growing enemies, Three and company are faced with a new challenge: find the remaining Garde before the Mogs do, or else. Meanwhile in Spain, Number Seven faces her own challenges trying to survive. Continuation of my Lorien Legacies Rewrite, Book 2 in the I Am Number Three series. Language, Violence, Gore.
1. Prologue: Aftermath

_**A.N.**_

 _ **Well, hello everyone! I hope you all are doing well. It's been a long time coming, but it's finally here.**_

 _ **I Am Number Three: Book 2!**_

 _ **I'm titling this one The Spirit of Resistance, but if you guys have any better ideas for story names, I'm more than open to them! (Seriously, I had a hard time coming up with that title. Power of Six is the hardest book in the series to rewrite, since it's literally 75% exposition with Marina.)**_

 _ **Anyways, I want to thank everyone who encouraged me with the first book in this series, and I hope you'll all continue to support me in this book too!**_

 _ **Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy.**_

 _ **Discordant Night**_

* * *

 **I Am Number Three**

 **Book Two: The Spirit of Resistance**

 **Prologue**

* * *

Iarius Kalae'nk stared in shock at the com-screen before him. Upon the screen lay the results of the latest Garde retrieval mission, the formal document scattered amongst spatterings of other reports. He squinted as he read over the High-Born dialect, the slight differences in language giving him a headache. Iarius resolved to ask General Sutekh for an augment, preferably to either remove the headaches or improve his eyesight; the former, if he could.

The report was written by General Sutekh's daughter, C'keli strangely enough, after the failed events of the Paradise incident. Iarius seethed. The Garde were _this_ close, and yet not even the General's daughter could capture them. Add in the fact that her traitor brother Adamus was there, and it was understandable why everyone was on edge. Four squads of vat-born, six of _kraul_ and a pair of piken had been lost in that battle, all due to the cowardly Loric bringing the school down around their heads. The clean-up crew had searched through every piece of rubble, only to find...

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

The clean-up crews report stated that, while they recovered the remains of the vatborn squads, there were no Loric remains to be found.

Iarius scanned the report a second time, searching for any mention of what exactly when on during that mission. He knew a few of the officers that were assigned to that mission, including one of the assault team members under Ivanick. If all was to go as planned, they would be married after the war ended. The only thing stopping them from achieving that goal was this damn war with the Loric, the cowards. Did they even know what they were doing, how many lives they were destroying by waging this damned war?

Iarius clenched his fists. Nothing, not war, not the Loric, not even Setrakus Ra himself could keep them apart. He would have his beloved, and they would be together. If only this war was over...

The bay doors opened with a whoosh, metal plates sliding back to allow Ivanick Shu-ra into the room. Iarius stood rigidly, his back ramrod straight as he saluted the senior officer.

"Stand down, Iarius," Ivanick called in flawless English. "It's just me today."

Iarius let out a breath. "Thank you, commander." He bowed slightly to the pure-born, dropping his salute and relaxing. "How was the mission?" He hoped his voice did not betray his true intentions, the underlying questions of what happened to cause their defeat.

Ivanick frowned. "The Loric got away," he growled. "Not a single one was captured." The commander slams his fist on the control panel, sending pencils and stationary flying. "And worst of all, _he_ was there." Ivanick's voice curdles. The subject of Adamus Sutekh was a rough one; Ivanick's adopted brother turned traitor left a black mark on the annals of the Great Mogadorian History. Never before had a pure-born gone soft and turned to the enemy, and it pained Ivanick to even be mentioned in the same sentence as the traitor.

Iarius frowned. "The traitor?" he asked, feigning ignorance. "Why would he be in Paradise? I thought he was in Kenya."

Ivanick shook his head. "Was," he says slowly. "He stole a Skimmer when he helped the bastard Loric Three escape, and our spies had last seen him in Florida." The commander spits. "If only our trump card was ready," he seethes. "We could've wiped them out then and there, right before he met whatever Loric scum he's with."

This was news to Iarius; the last he'd heard, only Three was in Paradise. To hear that there were more, right under their noses... It was infuriating.

"There's more," Ivanick said grimly. "C'keli snuck aboard the cruiser, so we had no choice but to take her on the mission." He swore in High Mogadorian. "She _knows_ the General would never approve of her antics, but she does them anyways. Then we have no choice but to obey her orders, since she's higher ranked than even myself."

Iarius sucked in a breath; this was news to him. For C'keli to be ranked _higher_ than Ivanick, she had to have been... What did the humans call it? Whitenosing? He resolved to find out the term later. "What about the mission?"

Ivanick shook his head even harder. "She almost fucked that up too. Tried taking control of my squad, my hand-picked warriors. C'keli told me that if I didn't hand over control, she'd have me on Piken duty."

"What stopped her?"

Ivanick guffawed. "I told her that if she wanted to take control, she'd have to explain to her father why I found pictures of human celebrities under her bed!" He smiled, a rare sight. "She gave up trying to take control faster than a kraul chasing a scent."

Iarius shook his head. He didn't understand, nor did he want to. "But the mission?" he pressed.

The commander frowned once more, turning away from his subordinate. "The Loric outsmarted us," he said quietly. "Adamus came to their aid." He pauses, looking around the room as if scanning for cameras. "And if that's not bad enough," he says finally, his thunderous voice whisper quiet, "There was a third Loric."

"A _third_?" Iarius gasped.

Ivanick nods, ever so slightly. "Our scouts didn't see anything, but we know they were there. They had Three cornered, but somehow he escaped. Our scouts fell dead one by one, without a reason. Their vitals flatlined at the same moment a sharp snap was heard through their earpiece, but our analysts are trying to discover what it could have been." He leans forward, motioning Iarius to do the same. "The worst part is that one of our pure-born soldiers went missing."

"You mean they defected?" Iarius asks.

Ivanick shakes his head. "No," he denies. "Their vitals disappeared completely. They either flatlined or stopped working, but their body wasn't recovered.

Sweat beads on Iarius's forehead, and he fights the urge to wipe it off. "Who was it?" he asks, fearful.

Ivanick frowns. "Skyrineia Draen Cedisium."

Iarius's heart dropped. "No," he whispered. "No."

"Yes."

The pure-born soldier lets out a heart-wrenching scream. Anger, grief, love and sadness all flow into this one sound, a sob of despair that echoes through the communications hall. His love, his Sky, was gone. She was gone and never coming back, and there was nothing he could do about it.

And it was all their fault.

Iarius gripped the dagger at his hilt, the metal growing blindingly hot beneath his palm. "I swear," he spat, "in the name of Setrakus Ra and Mogadorian Expansion, I will avenge her."

He drew his dagger and in a swift move sends it careening into the com-screen. The paper thin glass shatters, the tip of the blade passing clean through the surface and impaling a report on the wall.

"I will make them pay."

* * *

 _ **A.N.**_

 _ **Ok, so I know the Prologue was rather short. But I promised you guys that the random Mog girls' death would be important, didn't I? And well, it is. She's the driving point behind a lot of things, actually. But that's a story for another time.**_

 _ **Anyways, what did you all think? Is Ivanick nearly as dumb as he seems? Will Iarius show up later in the book? Will I update faster this time around? (Actually, yes on that last one. :P ) And who are the narrators for this book?**_

 _ **Well, you'll see.**_

 _ **For now, I'm Discordant Night.**_

 _ **I'll see you next chapter.**_


	2. Chapter 1: Memories

_**A.N.**_

 _ **Well hello everyone! I'm so glad that I've finally gotten to the second book of the Lorien Legacies Rewrite! Thanks to everyone who supported me during the first book, and special thanks to those who reviewed the prologue of Book 2! I've been hard at work on Chapter 1 of the new book, and I think you all will enjoy it.**_

 ** _The first ever shout outs of this book go to Tactum Ignis and Speech Bubble Me! Thanks a bunch guys for reviewing the prologue, and I'll do my best to keep up the quality chapters._**

 ** _Also, if you're wondering, Iarius, unfortunately, won't be a POV character. Not yet, anyway, but he WILL be a recurring character in this and upcoming books. I don't plan on killing him off just yet, so rest easy on that end._**

 ** _Finally, as always, I hope you all enjoy the chapter, and leave a sub, a review and a favorite if you like it and want more._**

 ** _Without further ado, I give you IAN3: Book 2._**

 ** _\- Discordant Night_**

* * *

 **The Spirit of Resistance**

 **Chapter One: Memories**

 _ **Adam**_

One woke me, my dead sleep interrupted by her nudging my thoughts towards a darker direction. I bolt upright, clutching the blanket of the motel bed in a white-knuckled grip as I scan the room for signs of an intruder. I find none, then breathe deeply in an attempt to calm my racing heart. I glare pointedly at One as I enter my mindscape, retreating to a mental mirror of the world outside. "What is it?" I snap. "Couldn't you see I was asleep?"

"I'm lonely," she says softly. "Just because I'm living inside your brain doesn't mean I can sleep."

I sit up, releasing the blanket before yawning and stretching. "Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

One shrugs. "Talk to me, Adam. You're the only one who can see or hear me."

I yawn again, just to get it out of my system. "Yes, I know." I glance around the room, taking everything in now that I'm certain my life isn't in danger. Sam is asleep on one of the two couches, curled up under a blanket while mumbling something I presume is nerd-related. It doesn't surprise me; he's been up the past three days looking for information on anything related to Paradise.

Three is sprawled on the other couch, snoring loudly. His legs hang off the end of the furniture, grungy off-white socks looking out of place in the otherwise clean motel. A blanket hangs lopsided off his body, thrown around by his tossing and turning. I suppress a grin; even the most badass of warriors look helpless while asleep.

Speaking of warriors...

I glace at the other side of the bed, where the final member of our party lies resting.

Kasha sleeps peacefully, her fiery hair splayed out across the pillow. Her breathing is soft, shallow compared to the other two. The blanket covers her torso, her arm hooked over it and cupped beneath her head. Her lips part as she breathes slowly, content in her dreams as she sleeps. The warrior princess frowns as I watch, her hand reaching out from beneath the blanket to pat the bed beside her as if searching.

I flinch as her hand brushes my leg, even through the blanket. I hear One draw in a breath, but the warrior princess simply curls up closer to me and sighs contently, returning to her dreams. I'm confused, but don't think about it too much. It's nothing that needs to be thought about.

"Grabby little Mog, isn't she?" One asks. "She really had a thing for you?"

I nod. "A long time ago," I reply. "Back when I was young, and she was younger. I was a different person then. Harsher, uncaring." I sigh. "Naive."

"An asshole?" One adds.

I cringe but nod. "You could say that. The 'Great Book' was still ingrained in me then. I didn't have time for friends, or fun, or even romance." I sigh. "I can't believe I was so blind back then."

"Don't beat yourself up over it," One soothes. "How could you have known?" She slides onto the bed, weightless despite my brain trying to convince me otherwise. She lays against me, legs across mine and her head against my shoulder as she closes her eyes. "What matters is that you are who you are today."

I smile softly, running my hands through One's hair as I cradle her in my arms. "You forget who made me that way," I murmur.

One giggles. "How can I forget?" She cranes her neck to plant a kiss on my cheek, then nuzzles into my shoulder.

I sigh, content in just holding the Loric ghost, even if it was only in my mind. It's strange, holding someone you're supposed to hate. Like a cold fire, almost. But the weightlessness of the girl in my arms reminded me that she would never be the same person she was, nor would she ever exist outside of my own mind. The same weightlessness reminded me who was responsible for such a tragedy, that this innocent girl would never live out her dreams.

My heart sank.

That person was me.

My hesitation had caused her pain and suffering far beyond what Setrakus Ra could ever inflict upon me, far beyond what my people could ever inflict upon her. My unwillingness to save her had cost her her life, and her Cepan's too. My selfishness had caused her to be bonded with me, her mind potentially linked forever with my own.

At the time, it seemed like Hell. A Loric trapped within my own mind, tormenting me at every turn. The very scum I was destined to rid the universe of, trapped inside my brain forever. The thought was unbearable.

Then One showed me that I was wrong. Her memories, her experiences, changed me.

I couldn't be the same person I was, not after seeing what I did. Not after seeing what my people did to her.

Not after watching her die.

"Adam!"

One's voice snaps me back to reality, my brooding session over. "Yeah?"

The Loric girl sighs. "You're doing it again," she says, concerned.

I look to the walls, degrading as if they're made of rice paper. Through them I can see the battle at Mayalsia, where One died for the first time. The sounds of blaster fire couple with piken snarls, ringing in my ears before I finally shut them off in the back of my head.

"It's getting worse," One notices. "They're spilling into your mindscape."

"I know," I grumble. "It's not exactly easy to keep it contained, let alone under control. It's always worse when I think about what happened." I shake my head vigorously as I try to reset my mindscape, the world inside my mind where I can interact with One. The walls flicker, fading between the grounds at Ashwood Estates and the motel. After what feels like forever, they stabilize, the off-white walls of the motel cementing themselves into place.

One places her hand against my arm gently. "It'll get easier, Adam. You just have to give it time."

"So you say," I mutter. "But I wasn't born with these abilities, One. I don't know how to control them like you do." I look at my hands, palms up. "I'm not even sure I'm supposed to have them. I mean, what if Lorien is rejecting me? What if these powers are fighting me because I am who I am?"

"You mean being a Mog?" One huffs, cocking her hands on her hips as she looms menacingly over me. "Do you think that Lorien would allow me to gift you my powers if you weren't deserving of them?"

I stare blankly at One. "Lorien is just a planet, One," I deadpan. "It can't choose who gets what powers, no more can a man can choose how long his-" I'm cut off by a telekinetic gag, One's face twisted into a mask of disgust.

"First off," One chokes out in disgust, "comparing Lorien to a set of genitals is by far the _worst_ analogy you could have come up with." She pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Second," she seethes, "Adamus Sutekh, you are by far the most stubborn, most ignorant, most hare-brained alien I have _ever_ met. You don't know _anything_ about the Loric, and with that attitude, never will!" She jabs her finger into my chest with each word, the final phrase sending my body toppling backward onto the bed. I scramble away from her and press my back against the headboard, not out of fear, but out of instinct.

One wrests control from me, now driving my mindscape as the walls shift from the motel to a scene I'd hoped long forgotten.

London.

In the scene, a younger version of me is racing through the Underground, chest heaving as the past me tries desperately to reach an apartment on the other side of the city before my brother did. I didn't have much time, an obstacle that I couldn't overcome on my own. Unfortunately, I was _completely_ alone, having deserted my squad and gone rogue in an attempt to save the Loric I knew would be killed soon.

One faces the scene, a mixture of grief and resentment reflected in her eyes. Her bottom lip trembles as she watches the younger version of myself, almost as if she's about to cry.

My past self curses as I find myself lost, staring at a map of the Underground. Gaining my bearings, I race up a stairwell and through traffic in a last-ditch attempt to save Two. All around me humans continue on with their lives, unaware of the interplanetary war that rages on their own planet. I remember envying them, blissfully ignorant to the truth of the universe. I still do, if I'm honest with myself.

The apartment complex comes into view and I gain a second wind, pushing myself until my lungs are on fire and my legs feel like jelly. Still, I trudge up the stairs to the second floor and knock urgently on the apartment door.

Two had answered it with extreme caution, a Glock .40 caliber in her relatively small hands. She'd asked questions, but the only answer I could tell her was that she was in danger. She'd known what to do next and began packing immediately.

But it wasn't enough.

Ivanick found her too, literally minutes after I arrived. He thought I'd gone in for the kill, trying to take the glory for myself. He couldn't have been more wrong, but he didn't care. He killed her anyways.

Later that night, I told my father that something was bothering me, that Two didn't try to kill me, even after she knew I was Mogadorian. After looking through her laptop, I'd come to a conclusion that before wouldn't have crossed my mind.

The Great Book was a lie.

One pauses the scene, taking us back to the scene with Two, right before Ivanick burst in and ruined the only chance I'd had. "Look at him," she says. "Look at the Mog there."

I glare at One, my mouth still gagged. She smiles sweetly but removes the gag anyway.

"You're asking me to look at myself," I grit my teeth. "Looking at me from three years ago will do absolutely nothing. It doesn't change who I was then."

"But you're wrong," One counters. "You're exactly the same now as you were then, Adamus." She zooms in on the past me, on the pain in my eyes when my father assaulted me for denying the "Great Book". "The Adam there is the Adam that Lorien sees, and the Adam that I know." She waves her hand, dissolving the scene before us. "Just because you're not Loric doesn't mean you're not good, Adam. In fact, it's _because_ you're not Loric that you have my powers. Lorien saw the kindness in your heart even though you were raised to hate us." One sets herself down on the bed, placing a palm over one of my hands and squeezing lightly. "And I see it too."

I'm speechless, to be honest. It never occurred to me that Lorien might choose me to wield its powers, to recognize me as a "Defender of Lorien". I'd always assumed that the only reason I even had One's powers was because I was stealing them from her. To hear that Lorien itself might have recognized me as an ally... It was eye-opening.

"Our time here is up," One says abruptly. "Three is up, and Kasha is beginning to wake."

Inside my mindscape the Loric warrior and the Mogadorian princess shimmer, moving to match their current state. Kasha stirs beside me, rolling over as she stretches slowly. I sigh. "Alright," I mutter. "Let's go see what today has in store for us."

One kisses my cheek before shimmering out of existence. "One last thing, I promise." Her disembodied voice is chilling, seeming to come from everywhere at once. "I think I'm kinda in love with you."

My mindscape shatters with One's final words, revealing the real world in all its tangible glory. I feel my cheeks heating as One's words register in my brain. "Great," I mumble, trying to hide my blush. "Not only do I have to save the world with powers that don't belong to me, but the dead girl who lives in my brain is in love with me." I shake my head slowly. "I wonder if being crazy runs in the family."

 ** _§_**

* * *

 _ **Marina**_

The night air is cool as I lay awake in my bed, the mountain breeze drifting through the open window. It carries with it the scent of moonlace, the silver-white lily the Sisters grow beside the lake. I breathe it in, then sigh. The others couldn't smell it, but I could. A moth flutters against the glass of the lantern, the sound of its velvet wings brushing against the glass too soft for the other girls to hear. Somewhere in the room, a pebble falls, the foundation of the centuries-old building settling.

The other girls couldn't hear it, but I could.

I wasn't like them.

Adelina insisted that I be normal, be like the other girls that stayed in the Mission of Santa Theresa. She insisted that I ignore the lies the Elders fed us since birth, instead focusing on our 'true purpose on Earth'. I shuddered. Adelina stopped believing in Lorien many years ago, just shortly after we came to the Mission.

She stopped believing in _me._

My development of Legacies didn't sway her, either. She ignored them like she ignored me, brushed aside as if they were nothing. As if _I_ was nothing.

Spending eleven years inside the Mission walls is enough to make most of the girls go crazy, but it hits me the worst. The other girls don't know anything other than the Mission, the walls of Santa Theresa having closed them in most of their life. They don't know the world outside, the pain and suffering that can be caused by a single action.

But I do.

We arrived on Earth when I was six, eleven years ago. After a year spent in transwarp, our ship had reached Earth and had landed deep in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, USA. Or at least, that's what Adelina says.

Our arrival was masked by a storm of our own creation, an overland thunderstorm the likes of which hadn't been seen in decades. Weathermen called it the storm of the century. Wisps of steam curled off the ship, the tendrils of energy the only remnants of our entry. I remember shivering, the cold of the night air sending chills down my spine. I hadn't felt the wind in a year. Someone was waiting there for us, I don't know who. They called themselves Greeters, or Welcomers, or something like that. It was clear they were Terran, native humans of Earth who had been warned ahead of time of our arrival.

Nobody knew who the Welcomers were, but it didn't matter. They handed each of us a large envelope and two sets of clothes, then sent us on our way. To this day I still don't know what was in those envelopes; Adelina never opened ours when I was watching.

That was when we all split up. I watched as the others all faded away, each Loric pair drifting further and further away before finally disappearing from view.

Then the Charm took hold. I thought myself lucky at first, being named Seven. I wouldn't die as soon as the others, I told myself. I'd have more time to practice my Legacies, to train and learn to defend myself. I'd have more time to rebuild Lorien. I wasn't like the poor soul that was One, the first fated to die at the hands of the Mogadorians. My Legacies would protect me, I told myself. The Charm would protect me.

I couldn't have been more deluded.

When One died I realized that I was one step closer to death, my enemy one step closer to _me_. The scar circling my right ankle was one that would never go away, not even after the Charm broke. Likewise, the Loric number for One would never fade from my left ankle, the smell of bubbling flesh forever scorched in my memory. One was dead, and that meant Two was the next in line. Then Three. Then Four.

If One was the first line of defense against the Mogs, then that meant that I was one of the last hopes to win.

Lorien's last hope to survive rested on mine, Eight, and Nines shoulders.

As I lay in bed, it occurred to me just how heavy that weight really was. Should Three through Six not survive the coming battles, it was up to me to gather the remaining Garde and wage war against Setrakus Ra and his army.

I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding, sighing loudly in the darkness. The black night swallowed my breath, echoing back only the chirping of the crickets outside. A myriad of possible scenarios played out in my mind's eye, each one ending worse than the last.

Three, ripped to shreds at the hands of some horrid Mog beast.

Four, beheaded by a scout and their life-sucking sword.

Five, forced to kneel before Setrakus Ra before being stabbed through the heart.

Six, gunned down before being impaled by knives.

The corpses of my fellow Garde, being paraded around a warship like some sort of sick, demented trophy. It made me want to vomit just thinking about it.

Finally, I turned over, pulling the blanket up to my chin before shuddering. However the next few months would go, it wouldn't be pretty in the end. I needed to start my training tomorrow or I wouldn't survive. If Adelina wouldn't help me, I'd help myself.

I sigh deeply once more, the realization that I might be in this war alone settling in. In eleven years I'd not had a single ounce of training from her, and tomorrow wouldn't be any different.

"Otherwise," I whisper to the dark, "I'm fucked."

 ** _End Chapter 1_**

* * *

 ** _A.N._**

 ** _Well, what did you think?_**

 ** _We've already seen two points of view, so in keeping with the original series, who do you guys think will be the final POV? Six? Maddy? Nine? Leave your thoughts in the towel section, and I'll see you all next chapter._**

 ** _Remember, review and favorite the story if you like it and follow it if you want to know when a chapter comes out._**

 ** _Until next time!_**

 ** _\- Discordant Night_**


	3. Chapter 2: Reunited

_**A/N.**_

 _ **What is up, everyone? So sorry for the late update. I'd hoped to get this chapter out by Christmas, but things came up and I had to settle for the day after instead. I'd say it's still a pretty good gift though, so Merry Christmas!**_

 _ **Big thanks to ILorienLegacies for reviewing. I'm glad you enjoy the series, and I hope you'll stick around for the finale (when I do manage to get there). And to answer one of your questions, I'm afraid that the Garde won't be fully assembled until Book 4, which is still a twinkling in my eye at this point. But the Garde and their allies won't have any shortage of excitement, so don't you worry about that. Thanks again for reviewing!**_

 _ **Hope you like this chapter everyone, and I'll see you at the end of the chapter.**_

 _ **D.N.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Reunited**

 _ **Six**_

Five days have passed since the battle at Paradise, the destruction of the town's only high school making national news. After leaving Sarah with Zayne's sister, Four, Maddy and I headed back the way we came, following the Loric GPS to Three. Putting aside the fact that the existence of such a device raised more questions than a Jeopardy contestant could answer, Four and I seemed to be on the right track.

So far.

Maddy didn't question the technology, which was good; I'd assumed that Nine showed her a bit of his own tech in conjunction with his explanation. After taking the wheel, she switched the music to some pop and let Four rest in the back seat.

He snored.

I didn't like it.

My thoughts flashed to the past week. The school, the battle, the return to my life on the run. I scowled; I did not miss this part of my life.

Maddy chose that moment to glance over and notice my scowl. "Something wrong?" she asked, biting her lip. "I know Nine could get a little touchy sometimes... Is that like, a Loric thing? Or is that all aliens?"

I shake my head. "Nah," I mutter. "It's probably just Nine." I let out a sigh. "I was just thinking, I don't really like this whole running part of my life. It gets old, running from everything." I turn and stare out the window. "Like there's a part of life that I'm missing."

Maddy turns to focus on the road. "Not really," she muses. "High school is a bore, the kids are all the same, and there's not much to do outside of school anyways." She drums her fingers on the steering wheel, nervous. "I'd take supernatural powers over a plain old life any day." The blonde checks the tracker, adjusting her course as needed. "The thing about being human," she says slowly, "is that we're only what we make ourselves to be. If I wanted to be a doctor, or a police officer, or an aerospace engineer, I'd have to work for it. I wouldn't know anything other than what I wanted to be." She waves a hand in Four's direction. "You guys, on the other hand, have your lives already set. Get your kick-ass powers, blast some Mogs into dust, save the world and all that." She sighs. "Me? I'm just... human."

"I'd give anything to be human," I mutter. "It'd mean that I didn't have to fight this damned war."

A heavy silence hangs in the air, my social blunder evident to even myself. Maddy's father was, from what she'd told me, one of the Welcomers who greeted the Loric when we arrived on Earth. He and his wife had been kidnapped, tortured, then used as blackmail material in order to get Maddy to target, locate and capture Nine. It left a bit of a black mark on the record of our little group, especially as far as trust was concerned. I groan internally. Four was going to have a field day once he met Kasha.

"How close are we?" I ask, looking out the window. "I'm not sure how much longer they'll stay where they are; even Zayne can't track people he can't find."

Maddy glances at the tracker. "Looks like we're almost there."

"Good." I brush invisible lint from my shirt. "We can't waste any more time looking for the others. The longer we wait, the stronger they get, and the closer Setrakus Ra gets to Earth."

Maddy nods then steps on the gas.

§

The tracker leads us to a small motel just inside the border of Ohio. The buildings are dilapidated, a few of the roofs about to cave in. The front desk is inside a similar building, the shutters of the window drawn closed against the wind. A small sign out front advertises vacancies as if one couldn't tell from the distinct lack of atmosphere. Likewise, a telephone pole holds a marquee advertising the same feature. Maddy parks beside it.

"John!" I shake the back of the seat, waking the snoring Loric. He snorts before bolting upright, his hair in disarray. A small fireball flares to life between his fingers, Four frantically searching for the non-existent source of danger. I snuff the flame out with a gesture, draining the oxygen from the air around it and forcing it to fizzle out. Four glares at me.

"You could've said 'We're here," you know," he scowls. "It would've been much easier than having me almost blow us up."

"You snore," I say simply. "Besides, Zayne and Luna built this truck themselves. I'm pretty sure they'd have thought of things like that." I open the passenger door, then stop and turn back to Four. "By the way, we're here."

"Ha, ha," Four mocks, sneering. "Remind me not to save your ass next time you need it."

"Guys," Maddy snaps, "we're here to find Three and the others, not bicker over who is prettier." She all but slams the door open, jumping out. "Though, if I had to choose, Six is winning."

I stick my tongue out at Four, then narrowly dodge a thin jet of flame he releases from his finger. I scowl. "Keep it up, jackass. Keep it up."

We all exit the vehicle, Maddy leading the pack with the tracker in hand. After wandering around the parking lot for ten minutes, she sighs and throws up her hands. "I give up!" She slaps the tracker, frustrated. "I can't make heads or tails of where this thing is leading me because it says we're already here!"

"To be fair," Four starts, "we are technically here. I mean, the tracker Amrys gave us says this is where Three and the others are, so it'd make sense that the tracker could only take us so far."

I shake my head, taking the tracker from the human girl. "I've got this, Maddy." I tap the screen, bringing up the holographic Earth. Three more taps zoom to our current position, three clustered dots in a fairly vacant parking lot. "They're here, alright." I say lamely. "But this won't tell us where they are." I shrink the globe, then pocket the device. "We need to do the legwork on our own."

"Meaning?" Four deadpans. "What, we go knocking door to door, asking if they're harboring super-powered aliens?"

Maddy sniggers and I can't help but cracking a smile. "Not exactly," I mutter. "But you've got the right idea."

...

The office is rather empty, the old man inside hunched over the counter working on a crossword or sudoku or something of that nature. A quick look over his shoulder tells me that there are twenty pegs on the rack, arranged methodically in a grid (convenient, I think). Three keys are missing; unfortunately, none of the missing ones are for room number three.

"Of course it wouldn't be that easy," I grumble. "It's never that easy." Approaching the counter, I wave to the old geezer. "Hi," I offer. "I'm looking for my brother..." I trail off as the old man eyes me suspiciously, then nods slowly, as if asking me to go on.

"Did..." I swallow again, unused to being nervous when lying. "Did you by chance sell a room to a guy and a girl? A little older than myself? Black hair, kinda lanky?" I pause, then add, "A little pale?"

The man behind the counter arches his eyebrow. "Your brother?" he asks again. "You sure about that?"

"Okay," I offer. "He's my boyfriend. I think he might be cheating on me, and I found this motel in his GPS last week."

The owner's attention returns to the word find book on the desk. "I'm afraid, legally, I'm not allowed to say, young miss," he mumbles finally. "However," he adds, flipping the page, "if you happen to see a young man in Unit Seven that looks like your missing betrothed, there's nothing I can do that would prevent you from knocking on that door and entering." He harrumphs, shrugging his shoulders. "I do hope you find him soon."

I smile softly, pulling a bill from my back pocket and sliding it across the counter. The old man adjusts his book rather hastily, slapping it down over the bill as if attempting to swat a fly. "Thank you, sir." I flash a smile and spin on my heel, exiting the building in what I hope is an illusion of anger.

Back outside, I grin with pride. "I've still got it."

§

Adam

Once everyone is up and about, the day goes a bit smoother. One relocates herself to the mindscape while Kasha finishes her medical analysis of Three. I politely turn my back, more for his benefit than anything else.

"You're completely healed," I hear the Mog say softly. "But there's a chance that if you use whatever that power was again that you'll suffer more than just exhaustion."

Three huffs behind me. "I wish I knew how to control it," he murmurs. "It'd make it a whole lot easier to avoid using it."

"If we knew what the power was," Four begins, "we wouldn't need to be careful."

I sigh. I hadn't missed his snark. "While I'm grateful for your company, Four," I say carefully, "Three's new unknown power is the least of our worries."

Four, Maddy and Six showed up less than an hour ago, scaring the living daylights out of everyone. Sam gripped the laptop like a club, ready to bash in the face of whoever stood on the other side of the door. Kasha drew her knives, the glowing blades seeming to pulse in anticipation of blood. Three had scowled deeply, resorting to using the makeshift sword he'd created from his arm when we first met.

"Adam!" Four had called from outside. "It's John!"

I scowled, pressing against the side of the doorframe. "Prove it!" I called back. "What did we eat for breakfast on the day we arrived in Paradise?" Kasha raises an eyebrow at me. I wave it away.

"Seriously?" Four asked from the other side of the door, incredulous. "What kind of bullshit is this?"

"Answer the question or I'll put a bullet through you."

Four sighed. "We ate pancakes. You took yours with butter and raspberry syrup."

I nod, Four having given the correct answer. I motion for everyone to drop their weapons, both improvised and professional, and I open the door.

Four stands with his fists clenched, smoldering embers rising from his knuckles. "Enjoy your little joke?" he asks. "What was that supposed to do, anyway?"

"It's a test," Sam says. "Like from Harry Potter." Kasha and I look at him, and he continues hastily. "Long story short, people can transform into other people, so they use specific memories to confirm they are who they say they are." He motions between me and Four. "Like you just did."

Maddy coughs, and I swear I can hear her mutter "Nerd." I smile internally.

Fifteen minutes later Kasha, One and I are recounting the tale of how we escaped the crumbling building, complete with colorful language and a slightly less terrifying description of Three's newfound powers. Four and Six had nothing to say about the darkness surrounding Three's power, nor did they have any ideas as to why One almost disappeared when I exhausted her powers. After an exhaustive set of questions, it all boiled down to one inquiry.

"Why then?" Six asks, confused. "Why did your power decide to manifest during the fight, rather than normally, like mine or Fours?"

"Yeah," Four chimes in. "My Lumen manifested back in Florida, during a night spent surfing. Unless Lorien thought I needed to see where I was going, I hardly think there was anything special about that night that caused it to manifest."

Six frowns pensively. "I disagree," she begins. "My invisibility manifested when the Mogs captured me three years ago." She begins to count off on her fingers. "Then there was my ability to control the weather and elements, which showed itself when I snuck on a plane and had to wrap the plane in warm air so it'd pass through a thunderstorm unscathed."

"Don't forget the force fields," Kasha adds. "That one manifested when Zayne's house blew up."

Six nods, pointing to Kasha offhandedly. "That too," she acknowledges. "It seems all my Legacies developed when I was in danger, or close to it. Is it any surprise that Three would manifest a new power in the midst of battle?"

"That's how mine manifested," I hear One chime in. "I was under attack in Malaysia when my Tectonic legacy showed up."

"I don't know," Three remarks skeptically. "This one felt different, like it was…" he trails off. "I don't know," he says finally. "I wasn't in control of my body when it happened. Like, I saw myself, and I saw what I was doing, but it wasn't me." Three shudders. "It felt like someone else was using my body, and I was shoved aside."

I nod, understanding what he meant. One and I, having spent enough time shouldering the other out of the way, mentally speaking, were no strangers to watching from the sidelines of your own mind.

"I, ah, hate to be the bearer of bad news," Sam butts in from the table, "but you guys might want to grab your things." He turns his laptop around and presses the spacebar. Tinny audio filters from the speakers, just loud enough to be heard.

"National terrorist John Smith was last seen traveling along Interstate 77, towards the border of West Virginia and Ohio, along with two possible accomplices or hostages. All law enforcement officers are advised that this individual is considered armed and extremely dangerous, and should contact the Federal Bureau of Investigation and SWAT as soon as possible."

Alongside the broadcaster is a grainy cellphone photo of Four in the same pickup they arrived in, with Six in the passenger's seat and Maddy behind him. What I can only assume is a bounty displays below his picture, and a number, presumably for the aforementioned FBI, scrolls along the bottom of the screen.

Maddy and Kasha exchange a nervous glance, then nod. Maddy rises and begins gathering toiletries from the bathroom, stuffing whatever she can into a small duffel bag that Kasha pulls from the closet. The princess herself proceeds to the pantry, tossing granola bars, energy bars and anything else she can find into a smaller pack, which she then slings over her shoulder.

"They'll be headed this way, won't they?" Sam asks, closing the laptop. "I mean, that's what they do in Cops."

I nod. "Chances are that they're already on their way." I stand, grabbing the computer cord and stuffing it and the laptop into the duffel bag. "They probably delayed that broadcast for the feds' benefit."

Three nods, cracking his knuckles. "Four, you and Six grab the Chests and use her invisibility to head for the Loric warrior takes charge, a complete 180 from his timid attitude mere moments ago. "Swap the plates, stash the Chests and lay low in the back seats. Invisible, if you can. Sam, you're with me in the first truck, where Four and Six will be laying low."

The nerd nods, unfazed. "Understood."

"Adam," Three continues, "take Maddy and Kasha in the second truck, follow behind You and One keep an eye out. We'll ditch the trucks as soon as possible for a bigger vehicle that we can all fit into." He nods to each of us, and one by one we nod back. The biggest obstacle at this point wasn't the enemy; it was keeping each other safe, and he recognized that. With a grim line set upon his mouth Three turns to the door.

"Let's roll."

* * *

 ** _A/N._**

 ** _Hi everyone, Discordant Night here. So sorry this chapter took longer than expected. Work keeps me up all hours of the night and gives little time for anything else. But I've finally gotten this chapter finished, much to my (and hopefully your) excitement!_**

 ** _Anyways, thanks to all of you who favorited and followed me and this story (I would look up the actual number, but I'm dead tired and I'm pushing 36 hours up now.). I appreciate your support, and I look forward to hearing your input on this chapter. I'll try to have the next chapter out before Valentine's Day, but I can't make any promises. Hopefully, it'll be sooner than that._**

 ** _Once again, thanks for your support. I couldn't do this without you guys!_**

 ** _Discordant Night_**


	4. Chapter 3: Crash Course

_**A.N.**_

 **Well, it's been a looooong while, hasn't it? My, my, my, it has been a while. I do apologize for the long delay in uploads, everyone. My life has been rather crazy lately, but I've been doing my best to work on the chapter in my free time. Between college (yes, college), work, and a LOT of personal issues, but I'm back!**

 **I'm going to start posting BOTH here, and on Wattpad, so if you want to find me there, you can! I'm under Discordant Night, just like here. You can also follow my Twitter ( xBloodxGamerx), if you want instant updates on when each chapter releases. (I know its a shamless plug, but why not.)**

 **Anyways, you've been waiting for so long, so I won't keep you much longer. Enjoy the chapter everyone, and please remember to review!**

* * *

 **Chapter Three : Crash Course**

 **Seven**

Sunday morning brings with it Sunday Mass, and with Mass comes El Festín. On our one day of rest, it's ironically our busiest day. The Sisters like to pretend it's in reverence for Christ, but everyone knows it's really for El Festín, the large dinner that follows service. Most of the girls are positioned in the kitchen today, a small grace offered to me by Adelina. She found out the hard way that I was no cook, the main course of El Festín having been scorched beyond recognition during my first term in the kitchen.  
I was lucky enough to be stationed at the serving counter, away from the other girls and closer to those who come to the feast. Even if I didn't believe in what the Sisters taught, I still liked serving others. Something about it made me feel… Alive.

"Marina of the Sea," a man says behind me with a smile. "So good to see you again," he says cheerily. "And out of the kitchen, too!"

I turn with open arms to greet Héctor Ricardo, the town drunk on every day but Sunday. "Héctor Ricardo," I say gladly. "It's so good to see you again!"  
I'd first met Héctor when I was thirteen, He had been sitting alone at a café along Calle Principal. He was drinking a bottle of wine alone, not even bothering to use a wine glass. It was shortly after classes had ended, and I was walking home alone.

The man at the table had been much the same as the Héctor in front of me today, but that day had not been one of his better days.

He was a small man, standing only shoulder tall at five feet and seven inches. His body had seen better days, but he wore his scars proudly, like a badge. His auburn hair was beginning to fade, a receding hairline emerging from underneath his fedora. His back sat hunched, elbows propped against the glass of the table as he took a swig from a bottle clad in a paper bag.

I had introduced myself, as we were taught to do in the Mission. He laughed heartily. "Of the sea," the drunk had said. "You come from the sea, little Marina?" He smiled at his own question, then offered me a seat as he shared his story.

"I am Hector!" he had proclaimed proudly, thumping his chest. "Hector Ricardo." He leaned forward, as if sharing a secret. "It means 'great protector', you know." Hector took a swig from the bagged bottle, slurring his speech as he slapped his chest. "I may be a drunk, but I am fearless!" He continued on, telling tales of his time in something called the Bosque Conflict, tales of his father and grandfather fighting in World War II. I remember gasping at that. Humanity had already had _two_ wars involving the entire planet? Even the Mogadorans would be surprised at that, I thought. He lived with his mother there in the town, taking care of her the best he could with what little money he recieved from the local government. I felt sorry for him at first, but the more I heard his stories, the more he amazed me.

From that day on Hector and I spent the afternoons at the cafe, me trading stories of my day and he trading advice on life in general. He was the closest thing I had to a friend here in Santa Theresa, and he never failed to bring a smile to my lips.

Hector's voice brings me back to the present. I shake my head. "What was that, Hector?"

"Ahh," he smiles, tapping his temple. "Something on your mind, _niña_?

I nod slowly, a thought coming to mind. If Adelina wouldn't teach me how to protect myself, perhaps someone else could. I glance around before finally leaning forward, across the table. "I'm worried about something," I whisper cautiously. "I need to learn to protect myself, but I can't pay anyone and Adelina won't teach me." I swallow, nervous. "I'm afraid that once I leave, I won't be able to defend myself from people who might hurt me."

Hector's eyes slowly widen. "You are not joking, _niña_?" I shake my head no, and he sets his mouth in a grim line. "I thought not. That is not something to joke about." He scratches his head thoughtfully. After what seems like an hour, he finally leans forward. "Come see me at the cafe after El Festín," he whispers. "Hector Ricardo will take care of you, don't you worry."

A smile cracks my lips and I nod. "Thank you, Hector." I scoop an extra helping of roast onto his plate as a thanks. " _Dio está_ _contigo, hermano."_ With a bow of my head I give him the required blessing, a forced smile now on my lips.

El Festín can't end soon enough, and once it does I bolt from the Mission before the Sisters can say anything. My footfalls beat a familiar pattern on the cobblestone street as I race to the cafe, to the seat where I met my friend all those years ago. I crack a smile, my heart filling with joy as what Hector once said echoes in my mind.

' _Hector Ricardo will take care of you, don't you worry.'_

I can't help but feel my heart jump in my chest as it finally occurs to me that for the first time in a long while, I might actually get some training. It might not be the training that Adelina would've given me, but at this point, I was desperate. And desperate times called for desperate measures, or so they said.

If this didn't qualify as desperate, I don't know what would.

* * *

 _ **Adam**_

Two hours later finds us on the highway, our miniature convoy finally out of Ohio and putting Kentucky behind us. Along the way we stopped at a Radio Shack (the last one in existence, so Sam says) and picked up a pair of two-way radios, one for each group.

"We can't keep waiting until we stop to communicate," Four had said. "It'll only slow us down." As much as I hated to admit it, he was right; if we kept waiting until a rest stop to communicate with each other, we'd miss out on important information. Information like our bounties increasing to fifty thousand dollars for myself, Three, Four and Henri ('good luck collecting _that_ one', I'd thought wryly), or the fact that if we didn't find another, larger car to steal (sorry, _borrow_ ) soon, we'd be walking; Four's group's truck was leaking oil.

" _Once we get through Tennessee we'll be golden."_ Four's voice crackled through the radio. " _Six says we can get to a safe house in Florida, but we'll first have to get a bigger car."_

I nod assent, though Four can't see it. "A Hummer, maybe."

" _No way,"_ Sam's voice comes through, garbled. " _Hummers are too conspicuous, and use way too much gas. We'd be stopping every twenty miles to refuel."_

"No Hummers then," Maddy calls from the wheel. "What about a suburban? My old church used to use them on mission trips."

I relay the message through to Four, who agrees. " _It would give us space,"_ he says, considering the idea. " _Not to mention it's certainly big enough to carry us all."_

Lights flash behind us, interrupting our radioed conversation. Kasha whips around in her seat, spying the interruption.

"Police," she says with a grimace. I relay it through to Four's group, only to get a collective groan. "Maddy," I say, trying to keep calm in my voice, "Just pull over, nice and slowly. Four," I grit into the walkie, "take the next turn off the highway. We'll be right along, but for now, don't get caught."

" _No shit, Sherlock,"_ comes the reply, but the vehicle in front of us peels away and takes the exit anyways. Maddy pulls the car to a complete stop on the shoulder, waiting patiently for the officer to approach.

"Well now," the officer drawls once Maddy rolls down her window. "You kids mind telling me why you've got Kentucky plates on a truck registered in Ohio?"

Kasha looks to me, dumbfounded. I shrug. "They were the closest plates I could find!" I mouth.

The officer eyes Maddy suspiciously. "Ya'll kids doin' a drug run?" He asks. "Where's the goods?" Peering into the truck, he spots Kasha and I in the back. "Maybe I oughta search this here truck." He muses, half-threatening. His eyes scan the back, then focus on me once more. "Wait a second," he begins. "You're one of them terrorists they've been talking about on the news!"

"We're _not_ terrorists," Kasha begins, but I cut her off with a look. Even if we could change his mind, it wouldn't help.

The officer grabs his walkie and practically rips it off his belt in his attempt to radio for backup. In the precious seconds that takes, Kasha, Maddy and I dip out, almost ripping open the passenger doors in our frantic escape.

"All units, I need backup!" The officer shouts panicked into his radio. "I've pulled over some of them terrorists that's been on the news!" The radio squawks a reply, but the orderly has already dropped it in favor of the gun at his hip. "Freeze!" he bellows. "Freeze or I'll shoot!"

" _Shall I?"_ One asks from my mindscape. " _I can handle this."_

" _I don't care,"_ I shoot back. " _Just take care of it!"_

One laughs inside my head, taking my invitation and settling over my mind. Colors shift as I'm shunted to the back seat of my own brain, becoming duller, less vibrant. The ground underneath fades away as my feet are no longer my own, the

crunch of dead leaves and lichen growing distant. Even the taste of the air is muted now that One is in control, the crisp bite of the winter afternoon falling flat on my tongue. I bite back a sigh. "It never feels right, you know." I tell One. "Everything feels duller when you're in control, like I'm back on Mogadore."

" _Oh hush,"_ One chastises mentally. " _Mogadore was a thousand times worse than Earth is."_ I know my eyes are tinted purple now, One's consciousness fully imprinted over mine. My - _her -_ feet hit the ground and stand firm as she turns to face the officer.

"Don't-"

" _Don't kill him, I know."_ One chimes in. " _Loric don't kill if we don't have to, Adam."_

I set my mouth in a grim line. "I know," I mutter.

One's footsteps echo through our mind as she stalks towards the orderly. "I'm going to say this once," she says. It suddenly occurs to me how strange it sounds to hear her voice coming from my mouth. "Get back in the car and drive away, before you get hurt."

My mindscape springs to life as I examine the scene further, the most minute details jumping out at me. A deep scratch mars the door of the cruiser. Wrinkles adorn the officer's uniform, a name embroidered upon the breast. Langley, it reads. Grey peppers his already thinning hairline, though he's not yet fifty, I think. I frown.

"What are you doing?" I ask the memory, striding towards the illusory man. "Why'd you pull us over?"

I circle Langley, examining him to the last hair. His weapon, I notice, isn't the usually issued Glock 19. Instead, his holster sports a Beretta APX Combat, an odd choice for a police officer due to the addition of a red-dot optic. Nothing too alarming, I think, except that his accuracy would be better than most. One could deal with that though; she'd been able to hold her own against volleys of Mogadorian blaster fire even without her telekinesis before she fell in Malaysia. Henri had trained her further, helping her adjust to fighting in my body the only way he knew - violence.

The scene shifts unbidden, bringing back memories from childhood - _my_ childhood. This, I knew, wasn't the result of my mindscape training; my mind was falling apart, tearing itself apart under the pressure of an extra personality in the already confined space.

" _Adamus_!" My father barks. " _Weapons training is now, not when you're being slaughtered by Loric heathens!_ " The General - my father - holds a small handgun in his clenched fist. I recognize the weapon immediately; how can I not?

The energy pistol is a Kaal'desh M'KAR, the standard issue for the Vat-born soldiers. It's a petite firearm, small enough to fit in a jacket pocket, or perhaps a purse. Not that the Vat-born used either; they preferred their trench coats. Only when they needed to blend in did they adopt another look, and that allowed for a wider array of places to hide firearms.

"The Kaal'desh M'KAR," I recite in time with my memory-self. " _Thak'kandar_ shell, with a small scale particle accelerator housed within the barrel. Ammunition is provided by the nuclear battery contained within the rear casing, resulting in a near-limitless supply of energy."

I scoff. "Yeah, right." The shell of the weapon my younger self held was indeed made from _thak'kandar_ , a metal mined from the mountains of Mogadore's Spine, the largest range on the planet. Everything else was a lie.

"There's no battery within the gun," I tell myself, "And the 'limitless energy' bit is a lie too." I pause the scene, my control returned thanks to the brewing anger in my gut. Anger at being lied to, at _believing_ those lies. "The gun is powered by life energy," I spit. "Drawn in from the surrounding area before being converted into superheated plasma and fired through the particle accelerator, traveling as fast as lightning." Faster sometimes, I knew. With a growl I wipe the memory from my view, returning to the scene outside.

The roar of battle is deafening. Fires rage across the highway, the police cruiser a smoldering, ruinous wreck that's half sunken into the ground. One's been busy, I register. A ear-splitting _thwop-thwop-thwop_ hangs in the air, and it takes me a moment to register the sound as a helicopter. Piercing sirens add to the offending mixture, red, white and blue lights to match. Thunderheads murmur above us before hurling arcing bolts of lightning down upon the roads.

"Well," I say to myself, eyeing the clouds. "That explains the cruiser."

Another bolt of lighting slams down at my feet, cleaving chunks of asphalt from the road and throwing them into the air. One moves, quick on our feet, dodging to the side.

"Careful, you moron!" Our two-toned voice is oddly resonant as we shout, Mog and Loric blending to become something more, something different. "We can't fight if you smite our ass!"

The thunderheads rumble in response. Six was invisible then, but close enough to acknowledge our remark. I growl; that lightning bolt was a cutting it a _little_ close.

Kasha streaks by, her red hair whipping in the growing maelstrom. "We cannot continue to fight," she yells over the wind. "There are more coming!" Her knives are gone, the empty sheathes bouncing wildly against the outside of her thighs. For a moment I wonder where they went, until I realize they're most likely embedded in the thighs of the officers, or hilt-deep in the engines of their vehicles. I shake away the thought.

Maddy chases after Kasha, trailing after the warrior princess. Soot smudges her cheeks and hair, but I don't see any serious injuries. "What now?" Maddy has to yell to be heard over the combined din of the storm and chopper, and I'm glad I have One's hearing to augment my own senses. "Where do we go?"

As if in answer, the radio clipped to my belt crackles. I snatch at it, the clip falling away with a sharp snap. "Ideas, Four?"

" _There's a train coming,"_ Four answers back. " _Head east, you'll see the tracks."_

"Kasha! Maddy!" I feel One stepping aside as I yell, fading back into the confines of my consciousness. "To the east!"

* * *

 ** _A.N._**

 **Well, this is certainly an interesting turn of events, isn't it? Someone to train Marina, some memories from Adam, and perhaps a bit more to come, eh? I don't think this is the last we've seen of Young Adamus,not by a long shot.**

 **Again, thanks for sticking around this long, especially when I've not updated in such a long while.**

 **For those of you who want to know when chapters release, follow me over on Twitter at xBloodxGamerx, and don't forget to review here. If you're new, thanks for checking this chapter out, and subscribe if you'd like to see more. Don't forget to check out the first book in the series, "I Am Number Three".**

 ** _Until next time!_**

 ** _Discordant Night_**


	5. Chapter 4: Fight Me

**_A/N_**

 ** _Hey everyone, Discordant Night here. So sorry for the late, late, LATE chapter. I'd meant to have this chapter out by April, but boy did I miss that mark. Shit has been going down in my life, but that's boring, so let's move on to the other stuff._**

 ** _No shout outs. I am sad.  
_**

 ** _Enjoy the chapter, everyone! Please remember to review, and if you like it, favorite._**

* * *

 **Chapter Four : Fight Me**

 **Six**

The face in the clouds had faded once I relinquished my control over the elements, allowing the natural grey to return to the thunderheads. We'd made it to the train, but only just barely; if we'd been any slower, we would've missed the open cars. The wind outside the cars howls and whines now, a storm directly overhead. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the water pooled on the car floor and frown; my hair was a mess. I hurriedly run my fingers through it, trying to straighten it out. Not that my hair had taken a long time to do this morning, no. I just preferred to have my hair not look like a rat's nest.

The train had been Three's idea; Four would've fought until he died, or called the Mogs down on us, if he'd had his way. I'm still not sure just how Three knew about the train, either. He didn't seem to have any precog Legacies, nor any astral plane abilities like what One provided Adam. Still, his info was correct, so neither Four nor I questioned it.

The train car is spacious enough, even for the seven of us. Four and Three glare daggers at one another. They must've fought again while I was occupied with the chopper. I sigh; one of these days they'd have to work together, or they'd not survive. Maddy and Kasha huddle together, shivering. Kasha's shirt is soaked through, revealing what can only be her battle outfit underneath; a skin-hugging black and deep purple material that looks to be a cross between a woven silk-like fabric and lycra. I blush as I watch her chest heaves in a disappointed sigh, the curves of her body only accentuated by the water dripping from her hair. Maddy's shirt is similarly drenched, and the flame-haired Mogadorian is occupied with tugging a fresh one from the duffel of supplies while her companion furiously tries to cover up. Sam stretches out against one wall, back propped up against the cool metal, head down. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, and I have to appreciate what all the running has done for his abdomen. Another blush creeps into my cheeks, and I swiftly look elsewhere.

Four huddles to one side of the boxcar, teeth chattering despite the fire-based Legacy that courses through his body. The irony is enough to make me suppress a giggle. He rubs his hands together, blowing softly into his palms as his body trembles.

"Keep trying," Three mocks. "Lorien knows you're full enough of hot air."

"Keep trying," Four mimics childishly. He cups his hands to his lips again, blowing fiercely. A weight seems to lift from his shoulders, his entire body slumping as he pulls his hands away to reveal a minuscule flame dancing within his grasp. A smirk plays across his lips, then he promptly flips Three the bird.

The fire sways and flickers between Four's fingers, lighting the car in hues of amber and gold. 'So destructive,' I think, 'yet so beautiful.' I stare silently content at it, the erratic jumps and crackles mixing with the rain drumming atop the roof to form a sort of rhythmic beating, almost lulling me to sleep.

Almost.

"Here," Kasha says softly, holding a change of clothes out to Maddy. The human girl blinks, surprised, but murmurs her thanks and grasps the top in her hands. With a glance at the rest of us -namely the boys- the blonde turns her back and discards the sodden shirt to the floor while she dons the dry replacement.

I float the discarded shirt to my hands, telekinesis kicking in instinctively now. The cotton drips pitifully onto the floor, laden with rainwater. I sigh. "Legacies aren't supposed to be used like this," I mutter, focusing on the water within the shirt.

It's a new feeling; when training with Zayne, I could sense the elements as a whole, but now… The part of Lorien inside me, the part that calls forth my powers from the planet itself, resonates with each molecule of water. Every drop, every contour, everything, I can feel it. I can see it. For a moment, I am it. A wave of energy crashes throughout my body as I mentally reach out, connecting my Legacy with the water-laden shirt, and pull.

Maddy''s shirt bulges as the moisture gathers in the center, leeching away from the clothing to pool in the fabric's midriff. The water pools quickly as I continue to pull, lifting the water from the shirt in a shifting ball.

"Whoa…" Sam's mouth drops, his eyes focused on the suspended ball of water. "Badass."

I grin, if only to hide my growing blush, and toss the ball of water out the side of the car. "Just one of the many uses of an elemental Legacy," I say coolly. "Just like this." With a twist of my wrist I snatch an ember of Four's fire, whisking it into my hands and amplifying it. The flames spring to life in my hands, leaping palm to palm as they climb higher. Shadows dance across the walls of the boxcar, painting our surroundings in a warm orange glow. Four's mouth drops slightly, then sets in a grim line as he accepts that he's not the only one with mastery over a flame. I stick my tongue out at him, briefly, then spread the flame amongst us upon the floor.

Murmurs of thanks go around the room, hands being spread in front of the blaze to catch the warmth.

"So," Sam says, more to break the tension in the air than anything else. "Where do these powers of yours come from again?"

Adam looks to me, then to Three and Four, who both shrug. "Who wants to tell him?" Adam asks.

"Rock paper scissors?" Four suggests.

"Hell no," Three shoots back. "You cheat."

"How do I cheat?" Four counters angrily. "You can't cheat at Rock Paper Scissors, everyone knows that!"

" _Oh for the love of Lorien, shut up, both of you!_ " One's voice slices the air like a scalpel from Adam's lips, silencing the bickering boys in an instant. " _If neither of you will tell him, I will."_

"Ooh, story time," Maddy remarks playfully, scooting closer to One and Adamus. "Ah, Six?" She points to the flame, still secured to the floor near where she previously sat. "Could you?"

I say nothing, only gather the flames once more and place them all in the middle of the box car. "Gather round the campfire, younglings," I muse. "It's story time with Auntie One."

" _Amusing_ ," One deadpans, though a smile plays at her lips. " _But seriously, gather around. I'm not saying this more than once, and the fire is rather warm. It'll do good against the rain and cold outside."_

 _"Lorien,"_ One begins after everyone has huddled around the fire, _"Is an old planet. Older than Earth, though some disagree on how old. Some say ten times older than Earth, others say a hundred times, and still others say a thousand."_ She pauses, letting this sink in. _"Lorien was like Earth, once. Thriving, beautiful, teeming with life and love and happiness."_

"What happened?" Maddy asks excitedly. "Is this before or after you were born?"

" _Before,_ " One says with a smile. " _Though that is not to say that it was not beautiful when I was born. No, Lorien was like Earth in many ways, including some that were… less fortunate._

T _wenty-five thousand years ago, Lorien was as Earth is now. Overpopulated, polluted, and on its last leg. Dying. The Elders, the leaders of our planet, realized this and tried to reverse it. They knew that our planet was in danger, that we were in danger as a species, and if we did not do something…"_ She trails off.

"We'd die," I finish for her. "Like you guys will, and everything else on Earth if the human race doesn't open their eyes."

" _Yeah…_ " One trails off, the topic hitting a little close to home for her. _"In any case, the Elders led everyone in a planet-wide change, somewhat like what the 'hippies' of the sixties attempted, but without the drugs._ "

"Definitely without the drugs," I agree.

" _Anyways_ ," One says impatiently. " _After over a century of care, the planet began to flourish again. Springs flowed where they had run dry decades ago. Extinct species popped up, one by one until they were no longer extinct, but merely 'endangered'. Disease as a whole became minuscule, thanks to pollutants and pathogens being cleansed from the atmosphere as a whole. Overall, it became… Better. Cleaner, more pleasant. A beautiful world, one you'd only see in movies._

 _As thanks to us for taking care of it, the Elders said that Lorien gave back to us. For recognizing the pain the planet was suffering, the pain we were causing, and changing our ways for the better of the planet, not for ourselves, Lorien gifted us with our abilities. There was no way to know where exactly the gifts came from, whether from the improved living conditions on Lorien, or if a cosmic entity literally gifted them to us, but the Elders claimed that the spirit of Lorien came to them in a vision and explained our gifts. Our Legacies, it called them._

 _Legacies were -are- powers of immense strength and versatility. Strength, speed, sight, hearing, stamina, and telekinesis are the basic Legacies that all Garde inherit, regardless of their other abilities. Others include pyrokinesis, or Lumen,_ " she motions to Four, " _elemental control, or Sturma,_ " she motions to me, " _or tectonic manipulation, or Terric._ " She pauses. " _That's what my earthquake power is_ ," she says after a moment of confusion from the rest of us.

"Ahh," Sam says softly. "So, if I'm understanding right, Lorien gives you guys your powers? Like, the planet itself?"

"Well, yes," I agree.

"But actually, no," Three adds. "See, the way Makara explained it was that the spirit of Lorien is what provides our Legacies." He reaches into his Chest, pulling out a cloth bag of various sized spheres. "You see," he says, dumping the bag out onto the floor, "Lorien is only the planet." The glass orbs clatter on the floor, then hover a foot off the ground as he begins to arrange them in order. "Four, a little light, if you will? This one, right here." He points to one particular orb, larger than the others by nearly half, and Four shines his Lumen on the surface. The sphere blazes with light, taking on a near sun-like qualty as it lights up the rest of the orbs.

"This is a scale model of Lorien's solar system," Three says, setting the last orb in place. The models spin in place, wobbling a little before orbiting the miniature sun. "This one," he says, pointing to the fourth orb from the sun, "is Lorien. Four, light please."

Four shines a light over the planet and I gasp as the planet is covered in lush greenery. The simulated oceans sparkle with clarity, and I almost drown in them just looking, they're so blue.

"This is how Lorien looked a week before the invasion," Three says calmly. "Things were… perfect," he finishes, struggling to come up with a suitable word. "Cut the lights, John."

Four snaps his hands shut, draining the sun of its warming glow. Lorien's glow fades too, the green leeching from the planet in waves, spreading from a spot on the side and moving outward until the planet is covered in a sort of bleak, sickly grey miasma. The oceans drain of their color, the clear blue bleeding into a foul brown sludge, interspersed with black and grey where the destruction was particularly ruinous. The planet becomes spotted where entire chunks of land have been excavated or blasted away, mountains crumbling away to dust in mere moments. Four lets out a gasp, and even I can't help moaning in agony as I watch our homeworld decay before my eyes.

"This is Lorien, one week after the invasion." Three says solemnly. "It took one week for the Mogadorians to strip mine our planet, their avarice and disregard corrupting the planet beyond repair. The waters were poisoned, the land blighted, and the life…" he trails off.

"Holy shit…" Sam breathes. "Just one week?"

"One week," Three repeats. "For all intents and purposes, Lorien was dead after a week."

"Your Cepan taught you a lot more about Lorien than mine did," I say softly.

Four nods his agreement, his own thoughts likely echoing mine.

"We left Lorien as children," Three says softly. "Six, you probably remember a little." I nod, and he continues. "Most Loric children start developing their Legacies at eleven, so none of us were near old enough to have developed any."

" _He's right_ ," One confirms. " _Lorien may be dead, but the spirit of Lorien is so far ingrained in our blood, we need only breathe for our Legacies to be drawn from the planet."_

"So essentially," Sam says slowly, "The fact that you're Loric means that your powers just.. Come to you?"

I shrug. "Yeah, I guess. Though, I'm not sure if any other Loric kids would have Legacies. Like, if two of us had children, I mean." A blush creeps into my cheeks, and I'm glad the fire is there to hide it.

Three plucks the glass orbs from the air, stowing them and the cloth bag inside his Chest once more. "I'm not too eager to find out anytime soon," he says slowly. "We have to win this war first, or there won't be a world for any children to be born into."

That comment kills the mood, and the rest of us quietly reflect on the state of things.

"What happened to your Chest, Six?" Sam asks.

"I don't want to talk about it," I say curtly.

"Oh. Ok."

The sound of the car rattling over the tracks fills the air between the lot of us as we settle in for the ride. Three pulls granola bars and military rations, doling them out between the seven of us. Water bottles are passed around, pulled from Kasha's pack this time, followed by thermal blankets. "Get some rest," she says after wolfing down her meal. "There's still time to relax before our stop."

The Mogadorian girl takes her own advice then, curling up beside Maddy and using one half of the duffel pack as a pillow.

"How far until our stop, Three?" I ask.

"Hours," he replies, curling up against the wall and tugging the blanket over himself. "Kasha's right," he says. "We need to rest, before we get to the safehouse."

"We'll keep watch first turn," Adam/One says in their slightly creepy, two-toned voice. "Get some sleep." They turn to me. "Three, you have second watch."

I sigh, but nod and watch as everyone wraps themselves in the blankets, then do so myself.

"It's going to be a long night," I say softly.

* * *

 **Seven**

Morning comes with the tolling of bells as I lay awake in my bed. I groan, but move anyways; the Sisters are sticklers about being productive. Faintly I wonder whether or not I could fake an illness to stay out of school today; La Gorda and Gabby would surely tell, if they knew. Ultimately, my choice is made when Adelina comes in to wake the others.

"Not you, Marina," she says. "We have a job for you."

"Yes, we do," Sister Dora echoes, entering the room. A little girl, perhaps seven or eight, is in tow, hiding behind

the plump woman's figure. Ratty, reddish brown hair frames a face that's seen far too much for her age, though she's far from malnourished. Blue eyes glisten, maybe with tears, maybe with fear, and her slender figure trembles slightly. There's a pink bow in her hair, but it feels off, like something she stuck in at the last moment. I groan internally. She won't be here for more than a month at most; the young ones are always adopted fast.

"This is Ella," Adelina says gently. "She's new in the orphanage; her parents died in a car accident just last week." She grimaces, and even I have to wince. Too many girls here had lost their parents to drunk drivers, or to unfortunate events such as this. "She's going to need someone to help her adjust to the mission and show her around."

I crouch down, resting my forearms on my thighs. "Well," I say sweetly. "It's certainly nice to meet you Ella. I'm Marina."

The little girls shivers, then slowly smiles at me. "It's nice to meet you," she says timidly. "Will you be my friend?"

I can't help but laugh; she just comes right out and says it, no holds barred. "Of course I'll be your friend," I grin.

Ella blushes softly, but smiles from ear to ear.

"Your job," Sister Dora says sternly, "is to show Ella around the mission today, to teach her the chores and how to conduct herself." She sniffs. "If I had it my way, you'd have nothing to do with her, but Adelina here insists that you would be the ideal candidate for the job." The plump woman turns up her nose at me, forcing me to suppress a sneer. What did I ever do to upset her, I wondered. "However, since you _are_ leaving in the near future, I see no harm in letting the young lady be in your care for an afternoon." She harrumphs, then mutters, "Perhaps some of her good nature will rub off on you."

I'm speechless; Sister Dora thought _that_ about me? Whatever had I done to upset her?

"Um, Marina?" Ella asks softly. "Will you show me around now?"

It takes me an hour to give Ella the tour of Santa Teresa, showing her everything she needs to know, and maybe a few things she doesn't _exactly_ need to know, too. Like the best place to read when everyone is loitering in the common room, or the storage room that the Sisters seem to have forgotten about; the hallway it sits in seems to have been abandoned long ago. I hide some of my snacks in there, telling myself that I might use the room as a hideaway when I want to be left alone; deep down, I know I'm lying to myself.

In the ten years since we arrived at the convent, not a day has gone by that I didn't fear for my life. Fear that the Mogadorians would descend upon us at any given moment. Fear that we'd be discovered because my powers came at the wrong moment, or someone would ask too many questions. Fear that my existence would come to a halt at the end of a glowing sword, or a bolt of energy to the head.

I lived my life in fear, storing food in that room, in nooks and crannies around the covent, in little places I'd carved out for myself in the town around Santa Theresa. Tucked away in these hidden crawl-spaces, where I was sure no human would ever think to look, lay a small stash of food and medical supplies I'd squirreled away over the years. I'd hoped I'd never need them, but with how Adelina had been acting… One never knew.

Thankfully, showing Ella around also netted me the day off from school, which was even better; there was a certain someone I needed to see.

"Marina, as of the sea!" Hector's smile spreads from ear to ear as I take a seat across from him. "What brings you to this drunk's corner of the world?" His poison of choice sits between us, a brown paper bag shamelessly crumpled around the bottle. "A talk, perhaps?" He grabs the bottle, taking a long swig before cradling it in his arm. "Or something stronger, maybe?" Hector laughs at my grimace. "No, no _niña_. Here, try some." A polite shake of my head causes him to withdraw the proffered bottle. "More for Héctor, then."

I rest my hands on table as I wait for him to finish his drink, clasping them together nervously. He finishes with a dignified belch, then glances back at me and flushes something fierce. "My apologies, _niña_!" He scrubs his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's not polite to do such things in front of a lady such as yourself."

A laugh bubbles up in my throat as I wave away his apology. "You're fine, Hèctor. I've seen worse." A glance at the surrounding plaza tells me nobody else has noticed his behavior; of course not, he's the town drunk. "You told me you could teach me how to fight," I say, leaning forward conspiratorially. "How to protect myself, remember?"

Hector nods, setting his bottle on the ground beneath the table. "That I did, _niña_." He clasps his hands before him, all mirth gone from his next sentence. 'Tell me about those who would hurt you, Marina."

I gulp. Tell him? I never thought he'd ask me to _tell_ him about the Mogadorians. What could I even tell him so I wouldn't be lying?

"It's not that simple, Hector," I begin. "These… people, they're… not from around here." I grimace internally; 'not from around here' didn't begin to describe them. "They've been chasing me for years, Hector, for as long as I remember. Since before I can remember, actually." Another half-truth, acid in my mouth as it fell from my lips. I despised having to lie to my only friend in this town hidden in the mountains, but if Hector knew who was really after me, then he'd never want to be around me again.

"They're dangerous," I say. "They have money, connections, even weapons that most armies have never dreamed of. And I'm not the only one they're after, either. There's more like me, people out there that these… these individuals are chasing." I swallow hard; perhaps a drink would've been a good idea after all.

Hector's steely eyes seem to gaze directly into my soul. "And if these.. people… find you?" His question hangs in the air; we both know the answer.

I say nothing; there's nothing I could say that would be close to accurate enough. My head drops, my spirit feeling drained.

He sighs. "I understand, _niña._ " The grizzled drunk stands, snatching his bottle from the ground and taking a swig. "Come," he commands, staggering towards the street. "Today, Hector Ricardo teaches you to fight!"

My friend leads me to the forest surrounding Santa Teresa, canopies of pine and birch and oak obscuring the sky above. After passing what looked to be the same tree four times in twenty minutes, Hector nods to himself and halts just inside a clearing.

"Look around you, _niña_ ," he says, spreading his arms. "What do you see?"

I take a glance at my surroundings, taking in the area he'd chosen. My body turns in a circle, taking it all in; for all my years here in this village, I'd never once seen _this._

Tall pines and evergreens lined the minuscule clearing around us, jutting upwards to scrape at the clouds of Santa Teresa. Dark brown needles litter the forest floor, left over from last winter's freeze, while the space between the trees was plentiful, but not so much as to invite prying eyes. Poppies and marigolds populated the clearing itself, adding a splash of much-needed color. Birds called to one another, announcing our presence while declaring their territory. Insects droned on, a grasshopper somewhere chirping lightly in preparation for the coming dusk. A rabbit darted from the underbrush into its den, tail held high. Foxes yipped and chattered, calling warnings of the strange new creatures entering their homes. Never had I seen so much that could remind me of home, of Lorien itself; I marveled at how I hadn't stumbled upon this sparse clearing before.

"How…" I struggle for words. "How haven't I found this yet?" I ask in awe. "This is magnificent, it reminds me so much of home!"

The rasp of metal on leather greets my ears in answer, Hector drawing a knife as I whip around to face him. I glance from the blade to him, to the slow grin on his lips and the sunlight glinting off the weapon.

"No time for talk," the drunk says gleefully. "It is time to learn!"

Words die in my throat as Hector Ricardo lunges at my chest, blade outstretched.

"Learn fast, Marina of the Sea!"

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **That's the chapter! Hope everyone enjoyed it, I'll see you next chapter!**_

 _ **D.N out.**_


	6. Author's Rant

Hey everyone, Discordant Night here. I have to say something, specifically regarding reivews, comments and followers.

I've written an entire rewrite of the first Lorien Legacies book (I Am Number Four) and posted it on (as I Am Number Three), ONLY TO HAVE SO MANY PEOPLE READ THROUGH AND NOT COMMENT AT ALL. My second book, THIS book, has 5 chapters posted so far, and only 5 reviews. That might not seem significant, but there are 6 people who favorited it, and 7 who followed. It ALSO has 491 views. 491! If even ten percent of them left a review, that would be about 50 reviews! Now, I know that's a LOT, and I'm not expecting people to leave that many reviews all the time. But I KNOW at LEAST 7 of you get the emails saying that this has been updated, and to just ignore them and NOT review? Come on. 5 Chapters. 7 people. That's 35 potential reviews. Do the math.

What you guys don't realize is all there is a LOT of work I go through just to write each chapter. All the research I put in to make each power believeable AND balanced. All the work I put in, writing and rewriting, and editing and revising, and sometimes even reworking the entire chapter, making sure the continuity is correct and the story flows properly. All the planning, plotting, character building I do, JUST TO MAKE YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTERS BELIEVEABLE.

Then, when all THAT is done, I have to balance my work, school and home lives to find time to write out the chapter that you all have been waiting SO long for, type it up, read through it, have my editor (yes, I have one!) read through it to fix any mistakes, then make any last minute additions or changes, THEN, and ONLY then, I can publish it.

And you fuckers can't take 30 seconds to write a comment or a short review of the chapter? Really? What you don't realize is that your comments, your reviews, your input and thoughts and feedback are what drives me to keep going, to continue writing this story that I started in my free time, when I have better things that could be taking my time (you know, like COLLEGE!). Without your feedback, i don't know what you like, what you don't like, how I can improve. Hell, I don't even know if you're even interested in my story and my writing anymore.

Seriously. If you like the story, if you like the chapter, fuck, even if you DONT like the chapter, leave a goddamn review. It helps me more than you could ever know, and it only takes 30 seconds. I spend thousands of times longer than that just writing the damn thing, the least you can do is take 30 seconds to a minute of your day to leave some feedback.

PS: I realize that this is probably going to lose me some subscribers/favoriters/readers, whatever you wanna call them. If this is you, I'm sad to see you go, but honestly? Good riddance. You couldn't be bothered to comment on a story that takes me more time to write than you probably spend sleeping in a month, and if you're one of the ones who are leaving because I'm ranting, so be it. Chances are you didn't comment anyways, and you wouldn't have commented whether I posted this or not.

TL;DR: I spend more time prepping and writing than it takes you to read. Leave a comment, for fuck's sake.

\- DN


End file.
